What's Real Doesn't Matter
by ceridwen-amyed
Summary: “We’re all here to do what we’re all here to do.” We all have to make the choice: red pill or blue pill? A vignette about one of the anomalies who knows that something is wrong with the world. An odd crossover with Memento.


**Author's Notes: **"We're all here to do what we're all here to do." We all have to make the choice: red pill or blue pill? A vignette about one of the anomalies who knows that something is wrong with the world. 

Inspired in part by The Animatrix, the Matrix comics on the official website and The Hollow Crowd by Centaur (which I _think is still buried in the vaults on ff.net… Go read it. 'Tis great. :) )_

This vignette was also inspired by the fabulous Memento, so if you haven't seen it… why not? Go see it! This should still hopefully make sense if you haven't seen it though…

I'd like to turn this into a whole series of vignettes, each about a different potential's journey into the Real World. I don't know if it will happen though – I'd like it to, but I might not have time.

**Disclaimer:** The Matrix, with all its characters and places, belong to the Wachowski's, Memento to the Nolan brothers.

**_What's Real Doesn't Matter_**

**__**

_"He can't be freed."_

_"Why not?"___

_"His mind… it wouldn't be able to cope. He wouldn't _remember_, Neo."_

_"But maybe we can help him. What if his condition is some kind of glitch, like a déjà vu? Maybe if we bring him here, we can help him."_

_"I don't know, Neo."_

_"Please, Trinity. I have to try."_

_"Why?"_

_"I don't know. Please… help me do this." Pause. "I just want to talk to him. If I can talk to him, I'll know whether I can help him."_

_Trinity nodded. "Alright."_

**_Awake._**

Leonard opened his eyes. An anonymous motel room, same as any other. He had no idea how long he'd been there, nor how he'd got there. It didn't matter, not really. He was here now and it was back to the old routine. For a man with his condition, routine was very important. It was all that mattered, in one sense.

_An anonymous motel room_, he thought. _Won't tell you anything._ Nothing in the drawers, but you look anyway._ He opened the drawers on his bedside table, and smiled ruefully._

_Nothing except the Gideon Bible._ He picked up the book and weighed it in his hand for a moment. Something caught the corner of his eye and he frowned. Sitting on the vanity was a laptop, a green curser blinking innocuously against the black screen. Leonard couldn't think why a laptop would have been set up in his room... Perhaps he had bought one to help with the investigation.

He crawled out of bed and rummaged through his clothes pockets. There was nothing, no piece of paper or photo to confirm that he had bought a laptop. He sighed, frustrated with himself.

_Dammit__, Lenny, said a voice inside his head, one that sounded remarkably like his wife, __when are you going to get yourself organised?_

Frowning, he went over to the vanity and sat down in front of the laptop. The green curser blinked and then started to type. Leonard jumped a little. _It must be hooked up to the Internet, or something… He glanced underneath the table and around the back of the laptop. There was no lead; the computer wasn't hooked up to anything, not even a power point. Slowly, Leonard looked back at the screen._

What is the last thing you remember?

Leonard sat down, eyes fixed on the green curser. It winked at him. Leonard bit his lip and then began to type back carefully; what else could he do?

Who is this? Why do you want to know?

There was a pause, and then the curser began to spell out more letters. Just tell me. 

_This is so fucked up._ Leonard typed back, more quickly this time. 

Have we talked before? I have short-term amnesia – I can't make new memories.

There was a longer pause this time, as though the other person (whoever they were) was thinking.

I know about your condition.

Leonard waited, but the curser remained where it was at the start of a new line, patiently waiting for him to start typing again. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand in thought. This was very, very strange… He shouldn't be having this conversation – it just wasn't possible. And yet, here he was. Talking to an unplugged computer. He couldn't understand it… But then again, there were so many things that he didn't understand. He'd learnt to cope with only knowing half the picture, less than half sometimes. So this was another thing he didn't understand; maybe advances had been made in the world of computers and artificial intelligence and he'd just forgotten. Hesitantly, Leonard answered the question. 

The last thing I remember is my wife dying.

And after that? The response came faster this time, almost eager. Leonard frowned at the message.

What do you mean? 

You remember more than you know. They've made you forget.

Leonard blinked. Who?

There was no response. _Come on, you can't tell me something like that and then leave… _He started typing again, hoping to prompt a reaction.

Who are you?

Nothing. He tried again. 

Can you help me?

The reply came quickly again, as if Leonard had finally reached the point of the conversation.

Yes. If you let me.

Leonard thought quickly. Whoever this person was, they were obviously skilled with computers – probably a hacker, he decided. Maybe they had access to records… The missing police files of the investigation maybe. God, it was worth a shot.

Can I meet you? I prefer looking at people's faces when I talk to them.

Ferdy's Bar. 20:05.

The laptop made a whining noise and the screen went black. Leonard sat back and exhaled. "What the fuck was that all about?" he muttered to himself. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. _Ferdy's__ Bar. He didn't know where it was, but that wasn't really a problem. He could ask someone for directions. _

_What have I got to lose? It's a public place._

Shaking himself, Leonard grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

_Ferdy's_ Bar.___ _20:05___ tonight. There is someone there who wants to help you. After a moment's hesitation he added another note. __Be careful. It never hurt to take precautions._

It was only then that Leonard realised that he had no idea who he was meeting. _Well, it makes no difference… I wouldn't remember anyway._

_"He said yes."_

_"God, Neo… I hope you know what you're doing."_

_"So do I." Pause. "Trinity-"_

_"My shift starts at eight tonight, after Morpheus's. I'll get you in then. I don't know if he'd approve of this…"_

_"No. But I have to do this."_

_"I know."_

**_Awake_**

He was in a poky little bar. The windows were small and the streetlight streaming through them seemed somehow cramped, as if it were squeezing itself reluctantly into a very dark place. Leonard walked slowly to the bar, looking around the crowded room for someone or something that wanted his attention. That was usually the best way; you didn't need to know who you were looking for if they were looking for you… _If_ someone was looking for him. Maybe he was looking for them, and they didn't know it.

Leonard sat on a bar stool and rifled through the notes and Polaroid's he had. Nothing… Except:

_Ferdy's_ Bar.___ _20:05___ tonight. There is someone there who wants to help you. Be careful._

Leonard looked at a beer mat on the bar. Under a sticky coating of spilt beer, the words _Ferdy's__ Bar glared back at him in green letters. He glanced at his watch. Shit; it was quarter past already… Whoever he was supposed to meet, they can't have known about his condition. It was hard to remember precise times._

"Leonard." He twisted around and saw a man wearing sunglasses sitting in a booth by a small window. His hands were clasped lightly on the table. Coupled with his dark clothes and sombre expression, Leonard thought he looked ready for a funeral. A very expensive, stylish funeral. Leonard got up and walked across the room.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he began.

"It's okay," cut in the man. "The time was more for me, than you." Leonard could make no sense of this cryptic remark, and decided to ignore it. He stood by the man's table awkwardly. "Would you care to sit down?" asked the man, raising his eyebrows behind dark glasses.

"Could you take off your glasses? I need eye contact…"

"Of course," said the man, taking off the glasses. Leonard sat down, making steady eye contact with the man. His eyes were dark, guarded. Leonard was reminded of an illustration he'd seen once in a children's book of Greek mythology of Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld. A man who had seen so much and remembered it all in startling clarity…

_He probably doesn't realise how lucky he is._

Leonard took his camera off his shoulder. "I need something to remember you by," he said, taking a photo. The man blinked in the after effects of the flash as Leonard took the Polaroid from the camera and shook it absently.

"My name is Neo," said the man.

"Neo?" Leonard sat down, smiling a little. He pulled out a pen from his pocket and printed Neo's name at the bottom of the Polaroid.  "Interesting name."

"Thank you," said Neo. "I chose it myself."

"You chose it?" frowned Leonard. "Like an alias?" Neo nodded.

"Precisely."

"Then what's your real name?"

"That," said Neo, "would depend largely on your definition of real."

Leonard cocked his head. "My definition of real? Does my definition differ to yours?"

"Yes," said Neo. "I think it does." He had barely moved since Leonard had sat down, a fact that made Leonard feel more than a little uncomfortable. He'd gotten used to reading people's body language. Usually, a person would fidget, play with a beer mat, have a drink, smoke a little something. The way Neo was just sitting there, impeccable posture, guarded eyes, clasped hands was just unnatural. And unnerving.

"How do you define reality, Leonard?"

"Wait a sec," said Leonard, holding up his hand and leaning forward. "How do I know you? Why am I here? Who the hell _are_ you?"

"What does your note say?" asked Neo.

"I take it you know about my condition then," said Leonard sourly.

"Yes."

Leonard sat back and rubbed his forehead, shutting his eyes. "Not very forthcoming, are you?" he said finally.

"No. I have to be careful Leonard… So do you."

"Careful about what?"

"About what?" Neo let out a short laugh, making Leonard jump slightly. "Jesus, Leonard… You come to meet me because a little note tells you to. You don't even know how I know you, or if I'm really going to help you-"

"I trust my handwriting."

"Someone could fake it." Neo raised an eyebrow. "Maybe _I_ faked it and slipped it in with all your other notes to get you here."

"Did you?" snapped Leonard.

"What does it matter?" said Neo evenly. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. You'll never know for sure."

"Look," said Leonard, "I don't have time for this crap." He started to get up but Neo grabbed hold of his arm.

"Wait. There's something I need to talk to you about."

"What?" asked Leonard, giving him a hard stare. Neo didn't flinch away, holding his gaze, mouth twitching into the ghost of a smile.

"I want you to answer my question; how do you define your reality?" Leonard said nothing. "Humour me, Leonard," said Neo, his arm still gripping Leonard's tightly. "Then you can ask me a question." He tilted his hand. "Tit for tat." Slowly, Leonard nodded.

"Okay." Neo let go off his arm and sat back, waiting. Leonard considered for a moment. _How do you define reality..? He picked up the sticky ashtray on the table._

"It's like this," he said, holding it up. "I know what it's going to feel like when I pick it up." He dropped it back on the table.

"So what's real is what you can feel. What if your senses were lying to you?"

"Even if they are," said Leonard, "it doesn't matter. I know that if I close my eyes the world is still there. It's not going to go anywhere because it's _real."_

"What if-"

"Look," said Leonard, laughing slightly, "what is this all about? Huh? What's with the philosophy? Who do you think you are, Socrates?"

Neo smiled. "Tell me, Leonard… What will happen if you knock that ashtray off the table?"

Leonard stared at Neo. "What, are you kidding me?"

The Charan-like eyes smiled back at him, clearly enjoying some joke that Leonard didn't understand. He didn't like that smile.

"Humour me," said Neo. Leonard stared at him, and then shrugged.

"Okay, then…" He picked up the ashtray again, holding it out for Neo's inspection. "Happy it's real?" Neo raised his eyebrows. Sighing, Leonard held the ashtray over the side of the table and dropped it. It fell, just as he knew it would. And he knew what noise it would make when it hit the wooden floor – an empty _clang._

Except there was no empty _clang_. Leonard frowned and looked at the ashtray. He blinked once, twice, then shook his head, and blinked again.

The ashtray hadn't made a noise when it hit the floor. _Because it had not hit the floor._

It was suspended, spinning slightly, about two inches off the ground; Leonard could see a slight shadow underneath it.

He tore his eyes away from it and looked at Neo. His right hand was hovering over the table top, palm facing the ceiling. He smiled faintly at Leonard before turning his hand over, slamming it against the tabletop. The ashtray soared upwards and slammed back to its original place, flipping casually over in mid-air. Leonard sat backwards so quickly he almost fell off his chair.

"How-how the fuck-?" he stuttered, looking around to see if any one else had seen this… this… He didn't even no what to call it. No one had stirred; the general chatter of the bar carried on as if nothing unusual had happened at all. "That's not possible," he said finally, not knowing what else to say. The ashtray sat on the table, looking like a perfectly ordinary ashtray.

"Apparently it is," said Neo. The smile had left his eyes now; he looked deadly serious, a look that Leonard liked even less than the smile. "There are two explanations for what just happened, Leonard. One. Your eyes and ears are lying to you. Two. The law of gravity isn't quite as strong as you thought it was." He cocked his head. "Either way, it pretty much screws up your idea of reality, doesn't it." It wasn't a question, but a fact.

Leonard stared at Neo for a moment. _Un-fucking-believable._

"I need a drink," he said eventually, forcing his legs to move from their locked position. He walked stiffly back to the bar without glancing back at Neo. He heard a cell phone ring and then Neo's voice said "Yeah?"

_Smoke and mirrors,_ he thought. _That's all it was. A trick. This guy's fucking with me._

He reached the bar and picked up a bar mat. _Ferdy's__ Bar._

"Smoke and mirrors," he muttered to himself. And then he thought, _what?_

_"Yeah?"___

_"What are you doing, Neo?"_

_"I'm having a conversation. A dialogue. It's the only way to-"_

_"He won't remember this, Neo. Give him a few minutes and he'll forget that trick."_

_Neo glanced up at the bar to where Leonard was standing. He looked around blankly. A woman sat on the bar stool next to him, and Leonard gave her a quick glance. Not a once over, more of a… "do-I-know-you?" kind of look. Neo sighed._

_"More quickly than that, Trinity… Apparently, I'm not a very memorable person."_

_"You are." Her voice was quiet, measured with deep emotion. _

_"A few more minutes… That's all I need."_

_Trinity sighed. "Alright."_

_She hung up._

**_Awake._**

"Smoke and mirrors," he murmured. He blinked. _What?_ He looked at the beer mat in his hand and flipped it over absently. _Now… what am I doing here?_

He looked around. A poky little bar, claustrophobic and dark. He ordered a beer and started rifling through his pockets, looking for a clue.

"Leonard." He turned. A man sitting in a small booth smiled ruefully at him. "It's rude to walk off in the middle of a conversation."

Leonard looked back at his photos. Sure enough, the top picture was of the man. _Neo.___

_Interesting name.___

"Sorry, said Leonard, pocketing the photo again and walking back to Neo. "I have-"

"I know," said Neo, still smiling slightly. The smile didn't reach his eyes; they looked older than he, sorrowful in a way Leonard couldn't explain. 

_Charan__, the ferryman into the Underworld… _

Leonard had a sudden thought that maybe Neo had had a similar experience to himself… A terrible loss. He felt a little warmer towards him then, safer. Anyone who had felt something like that was a… an ally, of sorts. A member of an exclusive club that nobody wanted to be part of.

"So," he said, sitting down. "What were we talking about?"

"I was just going to ask you something…" He paused, giving Leonard a sharp look, as if he expected him to say something. Leonard nodded, feeling that some response was required. "What's the last thing you remember?" Neo asked finally.

Leonard shut his eyes briefly. In his mind, he saw her, her own beautiful eyes blinking at him through the shower curtain they'd wrapped her in…

"I remember how my life became… like this. I remember how it was fucked up… I remember my wife dying."

"And after that?"

"Excuse me?" Leonard stared at Neo. He didn't look shocked or sympathetic. In fact he didn't have _any_ particular emotion on his face.

"After the attack," said Neo. "There's something else, isn't there?"

"How the fuck do you know?" Leonard could feel his hands shaking. He'd never told anyone else what he'd seen… He'd thought it was probably a hallucination, or dream. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. There was only one thing that mattered: finding the fuck who'd done this to him. To her. 

"So I'm right," persisted Neo. "You do remember something else."

"Maybe," said Leonard, taking a swig of his beer, clenching his fist unconsciously.

"What do you remember? Close your eyes… Think hard."

Leonard frowned. "What does it matter to you?"

"I think I can help you, Leonard. Not with your investigation," he added quickly. "I can't bring your wife back. But I can help _you._"

"Help me with what?"

"Help you wake up." Leonard stared at Neo. He looked completely serious.

"What are you talking about?" he asked slowly.

Neo leaned forward. "You woke up, Leonard. For just a moment."

"Woke up? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Please listen." A spark had awakened in Neo's eyes, and he was staring at Leonard. His brow furrowed a little, and Leonard suddenly had a peculiar idea that Neo wasn't looking _at_ him but _through_ him. Right through his skin and bone and into his head. He shuddered. "You woke up, and they forced you back to sleep again. Maybe they meant to take your memories away, maybe it was a mistake-"

"Who's they?" asked Leonard in bewilderment. "Who woke me up? Woke me up from what?"

"I can't tell you, Leonard," said Neo. "You wouldn't understand. And even if you did, you wouldn't believe me… You'd rather trust what your own eyes tell you, I'm sure."

"Oh, Jesus," said Leonard. "Are you fucking with me? 'Cos I've got no time for this." He started to get up. Neo stretched out an arm to stop him.

"I can help you, Leonard."

"You can help me find the bastard who did this to me?" snapped Leonard. People on nearby tables looked up but Leonard didn't care. This fucker was playing with him, trying to use him. He was almost certain of it. The feeling of comradeship he'd had for this jackass had been wiped away as cleanly as his memory had been. He hated this; hated that people thought they could use them… Hated that they were probably right. "You can help me find the man who raped and killed my wife?"

"No."

"Then you can't help me." He stood up, scraping the chair back.

"There's more to life then revenge," said Neo quietly.

"Maybe to your life there is. Not to mine." Neo started to say something else, but Leonard cut him off, leaning on the table, his face inches from Neo's. "Have you ever loved someone, Neo? Really loved them, with everything you have?"

Neo swallowed and nodded. "Yes." Leonard took a deep breath.

"If you saw them," he said, his teeth gritting as he spoke. Dammit, why couldn't he control himself when he thought of _her? "If you saw them in that much pain and you know that you could have saved them, but you didn't, and no one will believe the truth of what happened, and the fuck is still free-" He took a deep shuddering breath. "If you were me, would you do the same thing?"_

"Yes," said Neo, without hesitating, "I would." Leonard stood back, feeling grimly satisfied. Neo rubbed his face with his hands.

"Well," he said. "I guess that answers my question."

"What question?" asked Leonard.

"It doesn't matter." Neo picked up a pair of sunglasses lying on the table and put them on. He stood up, reaching inside his inside coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "But when you find John G - the guy who did this to you – maybe you'll remember what you saw." He held the note out to Leonard. "If you accept that what you saw was _real_, more real than beer and ashtrays and tattoos-" his eyes flicked down to Leonard's wrist. Leonard followed his gaze, and blinked, just making out words printed on his wrist, just below his hand. He frowned and then looked back up at Neo. With his glasses on, Leonard couldn't tell what he was thinking. Neo sighed. "Just take it, Leonard," he said finally. 

"Why? If it doesn't help me with my investigation, then I don't care." 

"And after your investigation ends? What then?"

"I don't know," said Leonard tersely. "But I'm sure something will come up. You don't have to worry about me."

Neo cocked his head. "Take it, Leonard. It'll help you start a new investigation."

Puzzled, Leonard tried to stare through Neo's glasses, wishing that he could see the other man's eyes. Finally, he sighed and took the note from Neo who looked somewhat relieved that he had done.

"Take care, Leonard," he said, and he turned away. Leonard watched him leave the bar, seeing him answer his cell phone as it rang. Frowning at the strangeness of the conversation, he opened up the folded piece of paper in his hand. A single line of text was typed onto it; a riddle, Leonard thought.

You can feel it, see it and touch it but you don't know it's there.

What is the Matrix?

"What is the Matrix?" he muttered under his breath. He looked back at the door, almost expecting Neo to still be standing there; the doorway was empty, the door was swinging slightly. "Nutcase," he decided. "A fucking lunatic." Still, he folded the note and put it in his pocket. It intrigued him, and Leonard had never been adverse to puzzles. On second thoughts, he took the note out of his pocket, and a pen. He flicked briefly through his other notes and Polaroid's before finding the picture of Neo and folding it into the puzzling note. He wrote on the other side of the note:

_When you have found the one, solve this. Find John G first._

He wasn't quite sure why he wrote it, but what Neo had said had struck a chord within Leonard. What _was_ he going to do after he found John G? Neo knew about what he'd seen… Maybe that place hadn't been a hallucination. It had certainly felt real; the wires brushing around him, the cold feeling of being suspended in water and a strange camera-eye staring at him briefly… What is the Matrix?

_Well_, thought Leonard,_ maybe I'll find out one day. But right now, all that matters is her._

_He hadn't even left the bar when his phone rang: she must have been waiting for him to turn away before pressing the call button._

_"Neo."___

_"I know," he said. "It was a hopeless case."_

_"He's too involved in the program. Freeing him might just kill him."_

_"But wouldn't that have been better than living this sort of life? A half-life?"_

_"Neo.__ You can't make that decision for him." Silence. "I'll have an exit ready. Phone booth at the corner." _

_Neo sighed. "Sure."_

_"Neo?"___

_"Yeah."___

_"You can't save everyone. You're only human."_

_"Not here I'm not.__ And isn't that my point? Isn't that what the One's supposed to do? Free all of mankind?" Another silence. "I'll see you in a minute," he said finally._

_"Okay." He hung up._

**_Awake._**

_… All that matters is her._

Leonard blinked and looked at the note in his hand, frowning. He read his own trusted handwriting, and then opened up the piece of paper. A riddle and a photograph. He shrugged, and folded the paper and photo together, placing it in his jacket pocket. It didn't matter now. What mattered was John G…

Leonard started flicking absently through his notes again.

_Now… where was I?_

_Minutes later, back on the Nebuchadnezzar, Neo opened his eyes and saw Trinity standing over him, her brow furrowed._

_"You knew he wouldn't go with you… Why did you try?" Neo didn't say anything for a moment, trying to sort his confused thoughts into a coherent sentence. She laid a hand on his arm. "Neo?"_

_"Because he'd already woken up once," he said. "He knew the truth, I think, deep down… It just wasn't his priority. What's real doesn't matter to him. Not yet."_

_Trinity didn't say anything; she only squeezed his arm more tightly. Neo sometimes wondered how she knew him so well; how she knew there was more to come. There were so synchronised with each other now._

_"I thought I could help him," he said abruptly, sitting up. "I thought maybe…" He sighed and shook his head. "I _can_ help him, I know I can. I just don't know _how_ to."_

_"You will," said Trinity, and the conviction in her voice was strong enough to make him believe it._

_"If I can help him," he said, "I can help anyone." He looked up at her and she smiled sadly, nodding._

_"You will, Neo," she said again, taking his hand and kissing his temple. He shut his eyes briefly and leant against her, willing himself to believe. "You will."_

**_*_**

**A/N: "**_An anonymous motel room_…_Won't tell you anything. Nothing in the drawers, but you look anyway… Nothing except the Gideon Bible."_ Quote taken from Memento.

Also, the title "What's Real Doesn't Matter" is taken from a quote from The Animatrix short, Program.

Just covering myself with disclaimers… I wouldn't to get kicked off ff.net now, would I?


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